Gritli's Children

by Johanna Spyri

  CHAPTER IV.

  IN THE FISHERMAN'S HUT.

  The next morning, Oscar was early on hand at the iron gate; waiting tosee the baker's boy, when he brought the bread. The boy came along witha huge basket on his arm, from which issued an agreeable smell offreshly baked loaves. Oscar went to meet him, and asked abruptly:--

  "Which canton are you from?"

  "That is none of your business," answered the boy.

  Oscar was not a whit surprised or daunted by this reply.

  "You needn't be so rough," he said; "I've a very good reason forasking." And he went on to explain to the boy what he had in mind, andto enlarge on the pleasure of collecting as many Swiss as possible; andof holding a festival in honor of their country. Then it appeared thatthe fellow was not a bad fellow at all, and had only answered in thatrude way to show his independence. He received Oscar's proposal withgreat interest, though he owned that he knew but very few Swiss in theneighborhood. He had come from Lucerne only about six months before, towork for the baker, whose wife was his cousin. A shoemaker's boy fromUri lived near by, and a porter at the "Bunch of Grapes" came fromSchwyz. Then there was the great factory down by the canal, whichbelonged to some Swiss gentlemen. He carried bread there every day, andhad often seen two boys playing ball in the garden, but they had neverspoken to him. Oscar was well pleased with this information. He askedthe boy to invite the shoemaker's boy and the porter to join thesociety, and he would see the others himself. He would appoint the day,and decide on other particulars later; as the baker's boy came every dayto the house, there would be no difficulty in keeping him informed.

  Highly delighted with his success, Oscar told the other children of hisplans, and asked Fani to go with him to the factory to see the two boys.Fani refused decidedly. Mrs. Stanhope, he said, did not allow him andElsli to visit people with whom she was not acquainted, especially inthe neighborhood. But when Elsli saw how badly Oscar felt at thisrefusal, she said:--

  "Perhaps you can go, Oscar. If you don't think of any better way, I'lltell you what I think you could do. When I came away from home, Mr.Bickel asked me to look about here and find out what sort of factoriesthere were in this neighborhood, and send him word so that he might knowwhether he could form any business relations with them. I have not beenable to do anything about it. Perhaps you could go and visit thefactory, and then write to Mr. Bickel about it"

  "I always said you were the cleverest girl in the world," cried Oscar,with delight; for he saw the way now clear before him. That afternoon,when they all went out to the court-yard and garden for their out-doorgames, he ran off to the factory. The dwelling-house stood not far fromthe canal, surrounded by a pretty flower-garden. Under the trees twolads were playing ball. They played with such zeal that Oscar, lookingover the hedge, became absorbed in watching them, and entirely forgothis object He was a good player himself; but such throws!

  "Bravo!" he cried; and the boys looked round. "Come and play too,"called one of them.

  Oscar asked nothing better. Hardly had he entered the yard than piff!paff! the play began again. Such a game he had never had before, norwith such players. The boys were as well pleased as he; and they playedon till the big factory bell rang for close of work, and Oscarremembered that he must go home. He wanted to make acquaintance withthese boys. The three playmates had, to be sure, already struck up afriendship, but they did not even know each other's names. Oscar nowtold his, and asked theirs; and learned that they were named Fink; thesons of the family who lived in the large house. They were from St.Gall, and were warm-hearted, wide awake young fellows. They madefriends with this new acquaintance from Switzerland with all theirhearts, and Oscar was as ardent as they. What enterprises they wouldplan and carry out together! But there was no time to stop and talkabout it now. He could only hint to them that he had a project offounding a great society of Swiss, a kind of Swiss Confederation, inwhich he wished them to take part. They received the idea withenthusiasm, and, having fixed a time for meeting his new friends again,Oscar returned to Rosemount with a happy heart. But what kind of afactory that was of Mr. Fink's, he knew as little as before; he hadforgotten to ask.

  From this time Oscar was always missing during the time that thechildren were left to themselves to play as they pleased out-of-doors.No one minded his absence; Fred was so busy with his collections thathe thought of nothing else; Fani and Emma were absorbed in their ownplans and only wanted to be let alone; and Elsli, feeling that hersociety was not important to any one, sat by herself on the bench underthe lindens, occupied with her own thoughts by the hour together.Sometimes she grew unhappy at the thought that she was living here sowell-off and at ease, while her father and mother still had such a hardlife at home. Often she thought about Nora, and wondered if she hadforgotten to ask the heavenly Father to call her to himself. She couldwell be spared from the earth, where no one needed her, and she longedto go. To tell the truth, Elsli dreaded to look forward. She did notfeel at home in Mrs. Stanhope's house; she had a constant sense ofunfitness for the position; yet when she thought of going back to herparents, she knew that there she should be equally out of place. So thepoor child was living a lonely life at beautiful Rosemount, and thinkingherself a useless and superfluous being on the face of the earth.

  Down along the bank of the river, a narrow foot-path ran for somedistance towards a thick clump of willows, in which it disappeared.Elsli had often followed this path by herself; it was so quiet that sheliked it particularly; she never met any one there, for it led only fromMrs. Stanhope's grounds to the willows. To-day, after Elsli had satalone for a time, she rose and walked along this path, and gazed at theever-moving waves as they rushed headlong toward the sea. Sunk inthought, she came at last nearer to the willows than she had ever beenbefore. The bushes grew larger and higher and became real trees; from adistance they looked like a thick wood that reached far into the water.Here was complete solitude; not a creature was to be seen, and the plashof the water below was the only sound that broke the stillness. Suddenlya loud scream startled the air. Elsli drew back in alarm. Louder andlouder grew the sounds of distress, now pausing, then beginning afresh.The child, recovering her courage, hurried forward to the spot fromwhich they came. Behind the first low-growing clump of willows theground was wet and swampy; and fast caught in the bog stood twochildren;--a little girl, who was screaming with all her might, and aboy, who was tugging at his sister's arm as hard as he could. When hefound that he could not pull her out he too began to cry aloud. Elslicame to their aid, and lifted the little girl from her uncomfortableposition. The boy then slowly worked his way out, but his wooden shoeswere a great encumbrance, and he moved with difficulty. When the twochildren stood at last on dry land with their wet shoes and clothessoaked with muddy water, they presented a pitiable sight, and Elsliasked them sympathetically whether they were far from home, and wherethey lived.

  The boy, who was scarcely more than six years old, evidently feltimmediate confidence in Elsli. He took her by the hand and saidentreatingly:--

  "Come with us and tell mother about it!" And as he spoke he lookedruefully at his shoes and at his sister's gown, on which the mud wasrapidly drying, and which looked as if it were made of pasteboard. Thelittle girl, not more than four years old, taking Elsli's other hand,said softly, "Do come with us."

  It was plain that they wanted some friendly intercession with theirmother, and Elsli felt sure that such small children could not havewandered far from home; so she held tight the clasping hands and letthem lead her.

  The boy became at once very confidential, and entered on the familyhistory. His mother was ill, and his grandfather could not go out intothe sun unless she helped him. The little girl's name was Lenchen, andhis own was Lucas, and the other boys were Tolf and Heini, and were notmuch bigger than he. As he talked, they passed the willow-bushes, andcame to the taller trees that stood near together; and quite close tothe water, wedged tightly in between two of these trees, stood a smallhut, so low and gray with moss, that
it could scarcely be distinguishedfrom the trees.

  "Here," said the boy, and drew Elsli with him into the house. It waspleasant and clean within, though low and small. The sun was streamingin through the little window in the corner. Against the wall was abedstead, where the sick mother lay, staring with big, wide-open eyes atthe new-comer. In the sunny corner sat an old man with snow-white hair.He looked up wonderingly at Elsli and the children. Two boys, not muchlarger than Lucas, came towards them as they entered.

  "We've been looking for you everywhere, and we couldn't find youanywhere!" they cried. Elsli went to the bedside and told the motherabout the children's misfortune, and where she had found them.

  The poor woman thanked her, and said it was very difficult for her tolook after the little ones, now that she was confined to her bed. Thetwo older boys had all they could do to keep the house in order, so shelet the younger children go out by themselves; and sometimes they gotinto trouble, for they were foolish little things. As she spoke, themother looked with anxious eyes at Lenchen, as she stood in hermud-stiffened clothes.

  "Can I help you in any way?" asked Elsli. She spoke timidly, for thewoman's tone and manner compelled respect.

  "We have never been obliged to beg," was the reply. "We help ourselvesas well as we can. But since I have been ill, it has been very hard.What help could a young lady like you give us?"

  "I am not a young lady. I can take off Lenchen's frock and wash it, andhang it out to dry," replied Elsli, eagerly.

  "Your dress shows that you are a young lady," answered the sick woman,evidently much surprised; and she glanced searchingly at Elsli fromhead to foot.

  The dress, which was one of Nora's, was of soft woollen material,trimmed with silk bands.

  "It is not mine; it was only given me to wear," she said.

  Suddenly the woman felt strongly drawn towards the friendly girl. Shethought she must be a foreigner. Her way of speaking, her wholeappearance had something unusual about it. Perhaps some one had takenpity on her, and had lent her clothes because she was so good. So shethanked Elsli and accepted her offer. Without hesitation Elsli set towork, and it was easy to see that it was not for the first time. In atrice she had freed Lenchen from her shell, and dressed her in a littlejacket that hung on the wall. Then she took the stiff frock upon her armand went with the children into the kitchen. She drew water in a woodenbucket, and put the two pairs of little feet to soak, after removing thedirty shoes and socks. When they were clean and dried, she sent thechildren back into the other room, while she washed out the dress. Theywent very obediently, but Lucas called back to her to hurry and come tothem as soon as the washing was done. The other boys now came into thekitchen, desirous to scrape acquaintance with this novel visitor.

  When Tolf saw how much at home the stranger seemed to be in her work, hesaid:--

  "Get our supper ready too, won't you? If you don't, we shall have towait till father comes home; and he doesn't know how to cook very well,either."

  "Yes," chimed in Heini; "and once he fell asleep when he was cooking, hewas so tired; and the potatoes were all burned up."

  "Yes, and then father has to go fishing after supper," continued Tolf;"every day, no matter how tired he is, he takes the boat and goes tocatch fish to sell."

  "And we've got to learn to fish too," interrupted Heini; "father saysthe oars are too heavy for us now, but by and by we shall be strongenough, and we must all work as hard as we can, or else we shall havenothing to eat, and our house will be taken away from us."

  These words roused many old memories in Elsli; how well she knew how itall was. It seemed to her as if she were at home with her father again,and saw his tired face, and heard him say:--

  "If we can only manage so that we shall not have to give up our house!"

  When Elsli had finished the washing, she went to the mother's bedside,and asked if she were willing that she should get the supper ready, andif she would tell her what to do. The eyes of the sick woman glowed withpleasure.

  "Oh!" she cried, "how kind you are! will you really do that for us?" andshe seized Elsli's hand, and grasped it heartily. Then she told her whatshe wished to have done. It was simple enough; Elsli had done the sameat home a hundred times. The boys ran into the kitchen with her.

  "I know of something new for you to do," she said, presently. "How oldare you?"

  "I am seven," "I am eight," they answered both at once; and Elslisaid:--

  "Well, you are old enough. When I was eight I had to cook the potatoesall by myself. Now I will show you how to do it, if you like, and thenwhen your father comes home tired, you can say, 'Sit down, dear father,and eat your supper; it is all ready.'"

  The boys were very much pleased with this proposition, and all eagernessto begin. Elsli showed them how to make the fire with small bits of drywood at first, and to put the larger sticks on afterwards. Then thepotatoes must be washed very clean, and put into the pot, and a verylittle water poured upon them. The boys worked away merrily, andmeanwhile Elsli fetched the sour milk. The boys watched the potunceasingly, but when the potatoes began to burst apart, first one andthen another, they were frightened and called aloud for Elsli. Shespeedily reassured them, explaining that the bursting only meant thatthey were good potatoes and that they were done. Then she threw away thewater that remained in the pot, and poured the potatoes out into a biground dish. She carried the plates into the other room, and made thetable ready against the father's arrival.

  The old grandfather, who had watched the proceedings from his corner,called Elsli to him.

  "You are good, and very handy too," he said; "can you come againto-morrow?"

  Elsli promised to come.

  "Look, I am lame," he went on, "and ever since my daughter has beensick, I have not been able to get out into the sun, because there is noone for me to lean on; the children are too little. Will you help meto-morrow to get out-of-doors?"

  She promised that too. But now it was time for her to go; she must notbe away when the supper-bell rang. The mother thanked her again andagain, and the children begged her to stay longer. As she went out ofthe house she saw a man just taking from his shoulder a shovel, which heplaced against the house. Elsli recognized him at once as the wearylaborer whom she had seen before, and who had reminded her of herfather. And as he stood there now, with his two boys affectionatelyclinging to his sides, and looked sadly yet kindly at her, he seemedstill more to resemble her father, and she could not keep the tears fromher eyes. She could scarcely refrain from sobbing, so clearly did shesee the anxiety and trouble that were in his heart, the same thatweighed down her own father at home. She held her hand to him, hepressed it kindly, and she was gone.

  When the father entered the cottage, the children all began talking atonce, so that he could not understand a word they said. He went to thebedside, and asked his wife for an explanation. She told him just whathad happened, and of her wonder that a child so well dressed and withsuch an air of refinement should have been able to do that kind of workfor poor people like themselves, and she didn't know where she couldhave come from; but the father said simply, "Our Heavenly Father hastaken pity on our misery, and has sent a kind angel to help us." And hethought of the tears of pity that he had seen in Elsli's eyes.

  Elsli ran as fast as she could along the path to the linden tree and upinto the garden. The supper-bell rang just as she reached the house, andthe different members of the household gathered together from theirdifferent occupations. No one asked any questions of Elsli. She meant,as soon as she could find a good opportunity, to ask Aunt Clarissa'sleave to continue her visits to the fisherman's family. She did notdoubt that she should be allowed to help them; they were so much inneed of help.

  When she left the cottage, she had asked the woman if she should notsend a doctor to her; but the answer was that the best medicine would beher own return. The poor mother had been constantly prevented fromgetting well by trying to work before she was strong enough, and yetthere was so much to be done that it wa
s hard for her to keep her bed.If she could lie still for one week only, she would be well again.

  So Elsli had decided that she could not help going again, and she wasglad to go. It was a real pleasure to her to feel that she could be ofuse, that some one really needed her.

  The next afternoon Elsli did not wait a moment on the seat by the river.As soon as the children had scattered to their different amusements shestarted down to the lindens, and she did not stop till she reached thelittle house among the willows. All four children were standing in thedoor-way awaiting her. They cried out with joy when they espied her, andran to meet her, and when she took little Lenchen up in her arms, thechild almost choked her in her close embrace. The boys too were so gladto see her, and pressed so near her side, that she began to feel as ifshe were surrounded by a tenderness and love such as she had neverbefore received; the poor, lonely little girl!

  The mother's welcome was warm, and the grandfather raised both arms inthe air and cried out:--

  "God be praised! I had begun to think that there was no chance forto-day!"

  He asked her to help him go directly out into the sun; for it waspleasant and warm outside, but within he sat chilly all day long. Itwas no easy task, for the old man was heavy, and leaned upon her so thatshe could scarcely stand under his weight, but at last they struggledout to where the sun shone pleasantly on the water, and gilded thetrunks of the old willows with his beams. Here the old man sat down, andasked Elsli to sit by him. She did so, and he went on talking.

  "Yes," he said, "that is the same old Rhine! How I have always loved it!But it will soon be all over with me; I shall not be long here to seeit; I must go, and where? But it's foolish to talk this way to you; youare too young to understand. Your life is just beginning. Are you nothappy, and glad to think that you can stay here by this beautiful waterfor a long, long time to come?"

  "I don't think of that when I look at the river," said Elsli. "I thinkof the beautiful stream that flows through Paradise, and of thehappiness of those who live there."

  "What do you say! How can you know anything about that?" said the oldman, looking at Elsli in amazement.

  "I know what is said about it in a beautiful song; I have known it along time. One of my friends taught it to me, and she has gone therealready. Shall I repeat it to you?"

  The old man nodded assent, and Elsli was glad to repeat the song againto some one who must be interested to hear it, since he was so soongoing there himself, he said. She began directly, and, as the old manlistened with great attention, she kept on to the end. He shook his headseveral times during the recitation, and, when it was finished, hesaid:--

  "That will not be for me."

  Elsli was very much startled. "But why not, why not?" she asked,anxiously. "It is certainly for every one; we must all die some time,and then how happy we shall be, when we go there."

  He shook his head again.

  "Not for me; it is only for the good." He said no more for some minutes,and Elsli sat in silence. At last he spoke again.

  "I could tell you something, but I don't think you would understand me.If a man doesn't get along well in life, and he thinks that God can helphim but does not, he says to himself that there's no use in praying, andhe must help himself as he can; and so he grows reckless and does thingsthat are wrong and that he shouldn't do; then when he comes to die, andhe has not thought for a long time anything about God and Heaven, thenthe door of Paradise does not open to him, and he cannot go in to thathappy life. But why do I talk to you of this? You cannot understand."

  But Elsli did understand partly, for she remembered hearing herstep-mother once say it was easy enough for those to pray who had allthey wanted, for they could see that God helped them; but he had neverhelped her. And Elsli could hear again the sorrowful tones of herfather's voice as he answered:--

  "If we think that, it will be worse and worse for us; that is not theright way to think."

  These thoughts made Elsli very sad; but presently she roused herself andsaid she would go into the house and see if she could do something forthe sick woman; she would come back by and by, and help him into thehouse again. The old man would not let her go, however; he drew her downagain upon the fallen tree on which he was sitting.

  "No, no; stay here," he said. "Let us talk a little more; you are wisefor your age. Don't you know some other song? I should like to hearanother."

  Yes; Elsli knew many others; but she could not tell which it would bebest to repeat now. After thinking awhile, she suddenly looked upbrightly and said, "I remember one now that perhaps you will like. ShallI say it?" and as her companion nodded assent, she went on:--

  "The night draws on--sped is my day; I know my end is near. I raise my trembling hands to pray; The grave's dark road I fear.

  "O God! thou art my only light! Be thou my guiding star! Hide all my trespasses from sight; Thy mercies endless are.

  "Look down upon me, Lord! I bow, Repenting of my sin, Oh! ope the gates of heaven now, And bid me enter in."

  The old man was silent. In a few moments Elsli arose, and thegrandfather rose also, to go back with her into the house. While withslow and painful steps they regained the door, he said, thoughtfully:--

  "Yes; I heard that long ago when I went to church. Then, it is stilltrue! If I could only find my way there! Will you come to-morrow, mychild, and say those verses again?"

  Elsli promised heartily. She was glad that she had thought of the rightwords to help the poor old man. She set to work at once in the house,and did not rest till she had put to rights everything that could makethe mother uneasy, and had made the sick woman and the children orderlyand comfortable. The boys were eager to have her come into the kitchen,to see how well they remembered their yesterday's lesson. Everythingwent right; and as she was leaving the house she again met the fathercoming in, and again received from him the friendly yet depressedgreeting which reminded her of her own father. And when the fourchildren seized and held her, declaring that she should not leave them,a rare smile lighted up his weary face for a moment, and he stretchedout his hand to her with such a tender look of love as she had never inher life received from any one but her father.

  And this was the story of one day after another for many succeedingdays. Elsli was living in quite another world from that in which theother children were amusing themselves at Rosemount. A new life had cometo her, and she looked so happy always and so changed that Fred one daycalled out:--

  "What makes you so happy, Elsli? You look as if you had just caught twogold beetles!"

  Elsli had found a place in the world, and no longer felt herselfuseless and superfluous. She knew that early every morning the fourchildren began to count the hours till she should come. The sick motherlonged for her to appear and with her skilful hands bring neatness andcomfort into her room. The grandfather depended on her help to take hisdaily airing, and, more than that, he loved the songs and hymns andgentle talk, with which Elsli brightened an hour of his lonely day. Andevery day Elsli could see more clearly how the father grew happier inhis home-coming, now that he found the house-work done and a peacefulevening of rest before him.

  Only one thing troubled her. She had not found a chance to talk withAunt Clarissa, and these daily visits were still a secret. And what ifMrs. Stanhope should disapprove them! This thought gave her greatanxiety. She knew that there was nothing wrong about them, but she wasnot sure that they would be allowed. For all that, she could not givethem up. She had made many attempts to tell Aunt Clarissa, but there wasa great deal going on in the house, and every time she spoke she wastold that she must wait till another time. One day she determined tomake another effort to get a few minutes' attention from Aunt Clarissain the evening, and then she would tell her the whole story. Aftersupper she went to her and asked whether she might tell her somethingbefore they went out on the terrace with the others. Aunt Clarissa askedhow long it would take, for Mrs. Stanhope wished them all to go outtogether
in a few minutes. Elsli answered that it would take some timeto tell it all, but that it was very important.

  "Then, dear," said Aunt Clarissa, "we shall have to wait till someother time; but I will call you to come to me in my room as soon as Ican find a quiet time. There is no hurry, I'm sure."

  So it was put off again.